The Spotted Plume

by Yvonne Whittal

  Hunter Maynard drove fast once they had left the town behind them, but Jennifer managed to keep up with him. It was when they turned off on to a dirt road, however, that she was forced to lag behind if she did not want to choke on the dust being kicked up by the truck. Ten minutes later she began to wonder whether the heat and the dust would ever end, but it was not long after that when she found herself following the truck through an arched gateway with the name 'Vogelsvlei' painted in large black letters against the whitewashed background.

  The homestead, when it emerged through the plein and pepper trees, momentarily robbed her of breath. She was actually looking at one of the 'Ostrich Palaces' she had heard so much about, and it was a sight that filled her with a great deal of awe. The white, two-storied mansion had a gabled roof, and a trellised verandah running along three sides of the lower portion of the house, with a similar balcony on the upper section, and it was surrounded by a spacious garden with shrubs and palms bordering the smooth green lawns.

  Hunter Maynard parked his truck on the gravel drive in front of the house while Jennifer left her Fiat beneath the shade of a large pepper tree. She climbed out and, moving with a fluid, unconscious grace, she hurried towards the truck to offer her assistance, but two Coloured women and a Coloured man were there before her, and from their jubilant expressions she gathered that they were thrilled at having their Oumies Maynard back in their midst.

  The wheelchair was transferred with speed from the truck to the verandah, and it was carefully dusted before Hunter placed his mother in it.

  'Let me introduce you,' Mrs Maynard said as Jennifer stepped on to the verandah, and she gestured towards the two women. 'This is Nellie, our cook, and this is Agnes who supervises the cleaning of the house and sees to our personal needs. And this,' she added, pointing to the Coloured man carrying her suitcase from the truck, 'is Danny. Danny is Hunter's right-hand man on the farm, and he can usually put his hand to anything else that needs to be done around the house.' Alice Maynard's smile embraced the three trusted servants. 'I'd like you to meet Sister Jennifer Casey. She's going to look after me for a while.'

  Nellie, the buxom one of the two women, was the first to react with a smiling, 'Dag, Nonnie', and the others swiftly followed suit.

  'If you'll give Danny the keys to your car he'll park it in the garages at the back,' Hunter instructed Jennifer, then he turned to Agnes. 'Go with Danny, and take Sister Casey's luggage up to her room.'

  Jennifer handed her keys to Danny as instructed and, as the servants dispersed, Hunter led the way into the house.

  Her eyes literally bulged at what she saw, and it was with the greatest difficulty that she controlled her features when Hunter Maynard happened to glance in her direction over one broad, forbidding shoulder. There were crystal chandeliers hanging from the high ceiling above her, and Persian rugs beneath her feet, and wherever she looked she glimpsed the polished wood of priceless antiques. A little beyond the staircase with its intricately carved wooden balustrade, Hunter led the way into what appeared to be a spacious bedroom with an adjoining bathroom, and here, too, wood and brass gleamed with a polished brightness, while the expensive rugs beneath her feet muted their footsteps and the squeal of the wheelchair's tyres.

  'I've had the guest suite prepared for you, Mother,' Hunter said in a clipped voice as he turned towards the grey-haired woman in the chair. 'I hope you'll find it comfortable until such time as you're mobile enough to attempt the stairs.'

  'That was very thoughtful of you, Hunter,' his mother smiled up at him, then sighed and clasped her hands together in her lap. 'Oh, it's good to be home again!'

  'Is there anything else you might need before I leave you?'

  'No, dear,' Mrs Maynard shook her head, 'but you might just ask Nellie to prepare a light lunch for Sister Casey.'

  'That isn't necessary, Mrs Maynard,' Jennifer protested hastily, but the older woman gestured her to silence.

  'Nonsense, child! Hunter and I had something to eat at the hospital, but that's no excuse for letting you go hungry.' She glanced up at Hunter. 'Will you speak to Nellie?'

  'I'll arrange something,' he replied, turning towards the door, but when he reached it he glanced back over his shoulder, and his electrifying glance travelled over Jennifer once more. 'By the way, Sister Casey, your room is to the left at the top of the stairs, and it's the second door on your right. That button next to my mother's bed is connected to a buzzer which will ring in your room if she should ever need you during the night, and if there's anything else you wish to know, then I suggest you come to me directly.' Without waiting for her to reply, he turned back to his mother and said abruptly, 'I'll see you later.'

  The door closed behind him the next instant, and as his heavy footsteps grew fainter down the short passage, Alice Maynard sighed audibly. 'I think I'd like to lie down for a while. That trip home has tired me out slightly.'

  Using her good leg as leverage, Alice Maynard made it easy for Jennifer to transfer her from the chair to the bed, and after adjusting the pillows, she asked, 'Are you comfortable, Mrs Maynard?'

  'Yes, thank you, Jennifer.' She looked up a little guiltily and smiled that warm, embracing smile. 'I may call you Jennifer, may I not? It's such a pretty name, and Sister Casey seems so frighteningly formal.'

  'You may call me whatever you like, Mrs Maynard,' Jennifer assured her brightly.

  'I think I like you, Jennifer,' the older woman sighed. 'Give me an hour, will you? Then you can come and help me into that infernal chair so that we can have tea on the verandah.'

  'I'll be back in an hour, Mrs Maynard,' Jennifer promised, and after making quite sure that her patient was comfortable, she left the room and closed the door quietly behind her.

  In the passage she encountered the buxom Nellie, who told her that her lunch would be served within a few minutes in the dining-room and, after taking directions from her, Jennifer ventured upstairs in search of her bedroom.

  She found it without difficulty, and she found, too, that her suitcases had been unpacked for her. She was delighted, also, to find that she had been given a room with double glass doors leading out on to the upstairs balcony, and when she opened them she discovered that she had a magnificent view out over the garden towards the fields beyond where the ostriches grazed. She would love to explore the farm, she decided, but there was no time for that now. She felt hot and sticky, and she could do with a change of clothing before she went down to the lunch Nellie was preparing for her.

  Fifteen minutes later she went downstairs feeling cool and refreshed after a quick wash in the bathroom across the passage from her bedroom, and she had changed into a white cotton overall, with her honey-blonde hair tied up once more in a neat, serviceable chignon.

  Lunch, in the dining-room with its polished oak table, was a salad with an array of cold meats, as well as a pot of tea, and it was only when Jennifer started eating that she realised how hungry she had actually been. A tranquil silence reigned, and while she ate she allowed her glance to slide over the paintings adorning the panelled walls. They were originals, and mostly landscapes, except for the portrait of a fierce-looking man seated astride a magnificent white stallion. ,

  The eyes were a magnetic, masterful blue beneath fierce dark brows, and there was an unquestionable familiarity in the high-bridged nose and square, determined chin. The mouth, however, was thinner, less sensuous, but it was undeniably Hunter Maynard's father, she decided when she noticed the proud, faintly arrogant tilt of the head, and the broad, powerful shoulders beneath the black riding jacket.

  Hunter Maynard, like his father, was an intimidating sight, and she hoped fervently that their paths would not cross too often during her stay at Vogelsvlei.

  She poured herself a cup of tea and drank it thirstily, but she had barely put down her cup when a step behind her made her glance over her shoulder to find Hunter Maynard observing her with a frowning intensity. Her nerves revolted at the sight of him, and everything within her suddenl
y cried out for escape, but the only exit was through the door which was filled by his bulk.

  'I take it my mother is resting?' he questioned tersely, coming towards her and placing her at a distinct disadvantage which she lessened by pushing back her chair and rising quickly to her feet.

  'That's correct, Mr Maynard.' Their glances clashed and, for some reason she could not explain, she felt herself driven to an apology. 'I know I'm not what you expected, but—'

  'When I telephoned my aunt two weeks ago I made it absolutely clear to her that I required the services of an elderly nurse,' he interrupted in that same ferocious tone he had used to her from the start. 'I can't imagine what possessed her to send someone like you.'

  He made her feel like an obnoxious insect which had crawled from beneath a stone to invade his home, and antagonism rose sharply within her. 'What exactly do you have against my being here, Mr Maynard?'

  His brows drew together in an angry line above narrowed eyes. 'You're too young.'

  'I'm twenty-four,' she replied, raising her chin defiantly, 'and I can assure you that I'm fully qualified, and quite capable of dealing with a case such as your mother's.'

  'I don't doubt your capabilities, Sister Casey, but I still say I would have preferred someone close to my mother's age.'

  'Perhaps I should just mention one thing to you, Mr Maynard,' she retorted stiffly. 'There aren't many nurses these days who would agree to this sort of thing. Nurses taking on private patients are quite a thing of the past.'

  'Why, then, did you accept?' he rapped out the question.

  Her hazel eyes clouded and fell before the penetrating quality of his. 'I had my reasons.'

  'Are you running away from a man,' he questioned cynically, 'or are you hoping to find one in this district?'

  For the first time in her life Jennifer experienced the desire to strike a man, but she clenched her hands at her sides until her nails bit into her palms, and said with remarkable calmness, 'You're mistaken, Mr Maynard. My reasons for accepting this post have nothing to do with any living person.'

  'Hasn't it?' His cynicism sliced right through her. 'I wonder…'

  Anger surged through her like a flame licking at a raw wound and, raising her glance to his, she said icily, 'If you must have a reason for my being here, Mr Maynard, then it's because your aunt considered it would give me the opportunity to reconsider my resignation from the General Hospital in Cape Town.'

  'According to my aunt, you've been at the General for some years,' he remarked coldly, 'or so Dr Tremayne led me to believe. I'm finding it rather difficult to accept that there's no man involved in this sudden decision of yours to resign.'

  'Very well, there was a man involved… but he's dead,' she stated flatly, choking on the hurt she still found impossible to erase. 'He died six months ago.'

  'You've come here, then, to lick your wounds, so to speak?'

  'If you want to think of it in that way, yes,' she replied, not at all surprised by his lack of compassion.

  'This is not a rehabilitation centre, Sister Casey,' he informed her with a new harshness in his voice. 'You're here to take care of my mother, and that should keep you fully occupied.'

  'I sincerely hope so,' she retorted swiftly and, sustaining his glowering glance, she added bitterly, 'You really do dislike the idea of having me here, don't you?'

  'How very perceptive of you,' he replied with a hint of mockery in his voice. 'You're quite right, I dislike the idea of having you here in my house. I can only take the female of the species in small doses, and having one woman about the place has always been quite enough for me.'

  'I shall make it my business to stay out of your way as much as possible, then,' she assured him, wondering vaguely at the stabbing discomfort she was experiencing.

  'I sincerely hope you do,' he said tersely, moving his wide shoulders as if to ease the tension out of them. 'Isn't it about time you went to see if there's something you could do for my mother?'

  Having this man remind her of her duties was almost a deliberate insult, but she swallowed down her anger and glanced at her watch before saying agreeably, 'So it is, Mr Maynard. If you'll excuse me.'

  She wanted nothing more at that moment but to get away from this overbearing, disturbing, and aggravating man, but she had not quite reached the door when his harsh voice made her stop and turn to face him once more.

  'Sister Casey,' he said, those blue eyes raking over her with a precision that set her nerves tingling with an un-comfortable awareness, 'please see to it that you keep your hair tied up like that at all times.'

  Jennifer did not bother to answer him, but she felt murderous as she left the dining-room and marched down the passage towards Mrs Maynard's bedroom. If ever there was a man who had it in his power to bring out the worst in her, then it was Hunter Maynard! He was rude, arrogant, and totally without sensitivity. She disliked him intensely, and she had no doubt that the feeling was mutual. For some obscure, prejudiced reason, he did not want her there at Vogelsvlei, and if it were not for the simple reason that she did not want to disappoint Matron Griffiths, she would tell him exactly what she thought of him, and then he could do with his job just as he pleased for all she cared.

  CHAPTER TWO

  'I hope you're going to be happy here with us, Jennifer,' Alice Maynard expressed the wish that evening when Jennifer was helping her into bed and making her comfortable.

  'Thank you, Mrs Maynard,' Jennifer smiled, straightening from her task.

  'Don't go yet,' Mrs Maynard pleaded, her grey eyes smiling up at Jennifer. 'I'm not at all sleepy, and I'm so happy to be home that I feel as though I could quite happily lie awake for the pure pleasure of it.'

  A warm, inner excitement was reflected in the eyes that met Jennifer's, and it was a look she had noticed on several occasions since their arrival on Vogelsvlei that afternoon.

  'It's quite obvious to me that you love this farm very much.'

  'Oh, yes,' the woman in her early sixties sighed contentedly. 'I've loved it from the moment I set foot on it, and I shall love it till the day I die.' There was unmistakable pride in her voice as she looked up suddenly and asked, 'Did you know that the Maynards have farmed here at Vogelsvlei for four generations?'

  Jennifer shook her head. 'I'm afraid Matron Griffiths told me very little about your family history.'

  'Sit down, my dear, and I'll tell you if you're interested.' She patted a space on the bed beside her and, when Jennifer was seated, she continued speaking. 'After my late husband's father died, my husband and his brother inherited Vogelsvlei, but they found it impossible trying to farm together. My husband was a meticulous hard-working man, while his brother was lazy and careless, and it was the latter fact that drove my brother-in-law into an early grave. The only solution to their problem, however, was to divide Vogelsvlei into two, and to be quite fair they drew lots to decide who would receive the portion of land with the original homestead on it. My husband was fortunate in that respect, and my late brother-in-law resignedly built himself a home on the portion of land which is now called Featherstone. Of course, since Hunter took over Vogelsvlei he's bought several pieces of land adjoining ours, and the farm is now almost twice the size it originally was.'

  'And Featherstone?' Jennifer questioned curiously.

  'Featherstone is exactly where it was all those years ago,' Alice Maynard sighed. 'My nephew, Stanley, is very much like his father, the poor, unfortunate soul. He's lazy, and often careless, but I'm fond of the dear boy, and I can't help feeling sorry for him.' A pained look flitted across her remarkably smooth features. 'Hunter has tried to help him in the past, to fire some enthusiasm into him, but Stanley took exception to Hunter's assistance and has gone on just as before.'

  Alice Maynard's head went back against the pillows, and the brightness of tears lurked in her eyes.

  'I think you should fry to go to sleep now, Mrs Maynard,' Jennifer suggested, rising to her feet and straightening the sheets where she had sat.
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br />   'Yes, I think I will.'

  'Please don't hesitate to call me during the night if you should need me.'

  Alice Maynard gestured vaguely with her hand. 'I'll manage.'

  'No, you won't, Mrs Maynard,' Jennifer said at once when she saw those usually soft features set into a stubborn line. 'I must insist that you call me if you should require anything.'

  A mischievous smile lurked in the grey eyes that met Jennifer's. 'Don't look so severe, child!'

  'In my profession I sometimes have to be,' Jennifer warned, then an answering smile lifted the corners of her mouth. 'Goodnight, Mrs Maynard.'

  'Goodnight, my dear,' Mrs Maynard echoed. 'I'll put off the light in a few moments.'

  Jennifer nodded agreeably and left the room, but she almost collided with Hunter Maynard in the passage, and the sheer height and breadth of him was enough to make her nerve ends curl up into tight little knots.

  'Is my mother asleep?' he queried in that harsh voice of his.

  'Not yet, Mr Maynard,' she replied in her best Ward Sister's voice. 'You may go in, but don't keep her awake too long. She needs whatever rest she can get.'

  'I'm well aware of that, Sister Casey,' he remarked cuttingly. 'You may go now.'

  Dismissed, she turned away, and her low-heeled shoes made almost no sound on the carpeted floor as she walked into the hall and climbed the stairs up to her room. She had felt his eyes boring into her back until she had turned the corner towards the stairs, and for some unfathomable reason it disturbed her that this man should dislike her so much. She had come to Vogelsvlei to carry out her duties as a trained nurse, and when her task was completed she would leave. What harm was there in that? she wondered distractedly as she collected a few things in her room and crossed the passage towards .the bathroom.